


La Vérité est Dans le Vin

by laureaa



Category: Figure Skating RPF, Olympics RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-10
Updated: 2015-05-10
Packaged: 2018-03-29 22:55:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3913729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laureaa/pseuds/laureaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Who's the funnier drunk?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	La Vérité est Dans le Vin

**Author's Note:**

> I cannot believe that this was written a year ago (exactly, to the day, tomorrow). I've begun to write some T/S again but don't exactly know if I'll ever finish or publish any of the works I've started--but, regardless, figured that I should at least transfer this over from the virtuemoir LiveJournal.

Scott moved to take another sip of beer when the world suddenly went dark; a pair of all-too-familiar hands covering his eyes with an accompanying giggle greeting his ears. Feeling a grin steal over his lips, he set the bottle down on the tabletop before bringing his hands up to cover his attacker’s, wondering in a faux serious voice, “Hmm. Wonder who this could be!” before snaking his arms behind him to pinpoint just where it tickled her most.

Even without his vision, his hands knew exactly where to place themselves—finding the curve of her waist easily, as if it were magnetic to his palm. And perhaps it was, to some inexplicable extent, after seventeen years of partnership and friendship… amongst other things that they had refused to explore. Tickling her gently at her sides, it was mere seconds before her hands fell from his face to swat at his arms, her laughter ringing out above the noise of the bar. 

“Scotty,” Tessa protested, clutching her sides, laughter still laced within her voice as she teetered unsteadily on her feet. 

Turning around to face her, Scott automatically reached out a hand to steady his partner.

“T, you can’t even get me when you’re sober—let alone when you’re drunk, you lightweight.” 

Blinking up at Scott, it took Tessa a moment to process his words through the haze of alcohol. Furrowing her eyebrows, she slurred, “I am not a l-lightweight, Scott M-Moir!” before jumping at him in a tickling attempt of her own—admittedly a pathetic attempt, as Tessa Virtue was indeed quite drunk and had minimum control over her usually graceful limbs. 

Wrapping his arms tightly around her waist, bringing her to a hold that was deemed as their “Jack and Diane hold,” Scott looked up at a pouting Tessa, rolling his eyes.

“Of course you’re not, Tess.” 

Peering over her shoulder, Scott called out to Joannie, “How many drinks did she have, Jo?” 

The blonde skater met Scott’s gaze and burst out laughing at the sight she found Canada’s best ice dancers in, shaking her head. 

"Not sure—maybe a beer and three shots?"

Scott turned his gaze back up to Tessa, giving her an affectionately exasperated look. 

"Exactly why we can’t take you out anywhere, Miss Tessa Virtue. One itty bitty taste of alcohol and you’re gone.” 

Tessa peered down at Scott from under her eyelashes, studying his face carefully. He could feel her eyes follow along the slope of his nose and the curve of his lips—her breathing a little heavier, the scent of Tessa mixed with the smell of alcohol engulfing him; the shift from playful to something much darker palpable in the air. 

"Tess?" Scott asked quietly, his body rigid although his arms still remained wound tightly around Tessa. 

"You’re sooooooo p-pretty, Scotty,” Tessa slurred, a lazy smile accompanying her words. She brought her hand up to caress her partner’s cheek, sliding her index finger down the slope of his nose before tracing the outline of his lips with her thumb. “So pretty,” she repeated, her smile still radiant despite her drunkenness. Closing his eyes and breathing out slowly through his nose, Scott internally yelled at himself to get a grip before bringing his eyes up to Tessa’s once more. 

"Thanks, Tess, but I think we already established that you are so much more beautiful than me," he deadpanned, trying his best to keep the focus away from the lingering feeling of her touch and on keeping his partner upright and off of the floor. 

"Scooootty?" Tessa sing-songed, bringing her hands up to hold Scott’s face, bringing their noses so close together that they almost brushed; her greens boring into his soft browns. 

"Yeah, Tessa?" 

Scott’s voice was strained and it felt as if all of the air had escaped the room; leaving him in a vacuum with Tessa, completely unable to breathe. Being in this close proximity to the stunning brunette was nothing out of the norm on ice—but they weren’t on ice. They were in a bar filled with people, celebrating the end of their Stars on Ice tour with their fellow skaters, and he knew that this was inappropriate behaviour; behaviour that would raise eyebrows even from their friends who have seen them all kinds of intimate… from falling asleep with Tessa encased in Scott’s arms, her head on his chest and his head on hers, hugs backstage that lasted a few more moments past ‘platonic’ before skating onto the ice, fingers intertwined and inseparable during practices. 

"Let’s daaaance,” she laughed before unsteadily pushing herself out of Scott’s arms, attempting to climb on the bar stool in order to get to the top of the table. 

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, kiddo," Scott called out, wrapping a firm arm around her waist before pulling her back towards him, holding her trapped in his arms. "No way in hell that you’re going to dance on a table top under my watch, Tessa Virtue." Even with her back towards him, Scott could feel Tessa pouting; her eyes wide and plagued with sadness—eyes that had the power to bring him to his knees, ever since he met her all those years ago. 

"Y-you, you don’t want to dance with me?" 

Scott felt Tessa shake slightly in his arms; a tell-tale sign of tears soon to come, if her wavering voice wasn’t enough of an indication. Giving a small sigh, he shook his head before turning her around in his arms—getting Tessa to meet his gaze by lifting her chin up with his index finger. 

"Don’t be ridiculous, Tessa. You know full well, even this drunk, that I’d dance with you any day, anywhere, anytime. Just not on that table top, and not when I’m afraid of you collapsing on me and getting hurt, okay?" he said sternly, planting a kiss on her forehead; letting his lips linger there for more than the appropriate amount of time, blaming it on the alcohol when he’d only had a bottle or two of beer himself. 

"Damn. Do you two ever not have your hands all over each other?” Patrick laughed as he approached Tessa and Scott, clapping Scott on the back as he took in the predicament that his friend was in. 

"Shut up, Chiddy," Scott grumbled, flipping him off behind Tessa’s back. 

"You’re right, man—it was stupid of me to even ask, after almost two centuries of watching you guys be disgustingly adorable," Patrick grinned, taking a sip of his drink. 

"You’re so lucky that I have Tessa here right now…" Scott glared halfheartedly, tightening his arms around his partner, who was now beginning to doze off on his chest. 

Patrick just laughed in response, shaking his head. “Yeah, we’ll see who’s crying the next time I kick your ass again at go-karting.” 

Scott opened his mouth to respond when Tessa tightened her arms around him, mumbling quietly into his chest, “I’m so sleepy, Scotty. Sooooo sleepy.” 

"I know, sweetheart."

The endearment had slipped out without Scott having even noticed it. He smoothed a hand over Tessa’s hair and completely missed Patrick’s eyebrows shooting up, his eyes widening as if he were watching the ice dancers under a new light. 

"Help me put her on my back, Chiddy?" 

Shaking his head and putting down his drink, Patrick nodded. 

"Of course." 

The two skaters got Tessa out of Scott’s arms and safely latched onto his back, her legs around his torso and her arms secured around his neck. Tessa mumbled intelligibly under her breath before burrowing her face into the crook of Scott’s neck. 

Scott went around the bar to find all of their fellow skaters and bid goodbye to all of them, promising to see them at breakfast the next day before they all parted their ways; the Shibutani siblings to return to Canton, and the Canadian skaters dispersing throughout to their various corners of Canada. 

"I’d tell you to take good care of her, but I know that you’d beat yourself up before I could even land a finger on you if you ever hurt her," Jeff chuckled as he said goodnight to the pair. 

Before Scott could respond, he felt Tessa’s hand creep up his neck and onto his face, almost smothering him. 

"Don’t hurt Scotty, Jeff—Scotty’s face is tooooo pretty to m-mess up,” she giggled, her hands now trailing down his neck onto his chest; landing on his pectorals. 

"Um, Tess?" 

Tessa paid Scott no mind as she grazed her fingertips over his chest, giving it a pat or two before slurring, “Are your boobs bigger than mine, Scotty? Because that is saaaad. That is just saaaad.” 

His face colouring as Jeff howled in laughter, Scott groaned, “For both your sake and mine, let’s hope not.” 

"Mmmm. Okay, Scotty."

Leaving the bar and the pulsing of the music behind them, Scott walked into the lobby and made his way to the elevator, thanking whatever higher beings made it so that the cast chose celebrate at the bar in the hotel instead of going out on the town. It would have been much harder—perhaps even impossible—to evade the paparazzi, so determined to “debunk” the innocence and kind heart of Tessa Virtue. And he did not know, nor did he ever want to find out, what irrational things he would have done if anyone had ever tried to get in his partner’s face with a camera when she was in a less-than-coherent state. 

Pressing the button for the third floor, he felt Tessa’s eyelashes flutter in the crook of his neck; her arms tightening ever so slightly around him. 

"Tessa, sweetheart—" 

This time Scott caught himself and swore inwardly, blaming the slip-up once again to the alcohol—and also to the fact that the situation was reminiscent of him carrying his sleepy nieces to bed, of whom “sweetheart” was an acceptable term to call them by. 

"Tess, where did you leave your key? Your spare key is sitting on the bedside table in my room; I didn’t bring it because I didn’t think that I’d need it," he said softly, reaching up to squeeze her hand gently in his.

Tessa mumbled incoherently in response, burrowing her head further into the crook of Scott’s neck—and as the elevator door opened, he opted to let her sleep in his room. Keeping a secure hold on his partner with one arm, Scott reached into his back pocket and grabbed his room key. Unlocking the door quickly, he made his way to the bed and lowered Tessa gently onto it, reaching down to take her shoes off to maximize her comfortability. 

Sitting at the edge of the bed, he paused for a moment to study the girl before him. It was moments like these that reminded him of young Tessa; the one who was too shy to speak to him for the first year of their partnership—the one who clutched his hand tightly, not letting go for the entirety of the car ride, when they relocated their lives to Kitchener-Waterloo… the first step in chasing their dreams of an Olympic medal.

It was times like these that the memories hit him like a tidal wave.

Taking Tessa’s hand for the first time; the feeling of mild disgust at the prospect of cooties, mixed with an intrigue for the only girl who could keep up with his stroking. Her soprano voice resolute through the phone as she agreed to put their relationship aside in case it happened to affect their skating. The first tremor of feelings other than a platonic love for his partner, seeing her in the shockingly red, form-fitting dress for their Free Dance at Junior World’s in 2005; the way her smile reflected in her eyes as she stared at him with complete trust and openness. The irrational anger he felt when he caught her kissing someone from her class after school; the inexplicable feeling of relief, mixed with copious amounts of guilt, when she ran into his arms—in tears—over the exact same boy a week later. 

Staring down at Tessa, Scott tucked a flyaway hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering; tracing the contours of her face just as she had done to him earlier that night—rubbing her cheek gently with his thumb. Tessa subconsciously leaned into his touch before her eyes fluttered open, meeting Scott’s gaze. 

"Hey, Tutu," he said quietly, giving her a soft smile. "Are you awake enough to change by yourself?" 

Tessa, through the fog of alcohol and fatigue, drank in Scott’s presence and the way the moonlight lit his face—making him seem almost ethereal—before she nodded into her pillow.

"Good. Your stuff is in your room, but I’ll give you a shirt of mine to change into, okay?" 

Tessa nodded once more, her eyes closing as Scott made his way to his suitcase to grab a shirt, depositing it at the end of the bed. He went into the bathroom to grab a small bag of Tessa’s toiletries; they always packed the essentials for their partners—an outfit, toiletries, etc.—in each of their suitcases, in the event that either of their suitcases were lost. Opening the bag, Scott rooted through Tessa’s stash of make-up to find the bottle labeled “make-up remover” and grabbed a cotton ball, praying that he was doing it right. Taking the small hand towel from the rack and wetting it in the sink before squeezing it out, Scott walked back into the room with the towel and cotton ball in tow… only to almost drop them in surprise.

"What the hell… Tessa?”

In the darkness of the room, Tessa was standing with Scott’s shirt draped over one arm, clad only in a lacy, black bra and panties to match. To make things much worse, she was standing directly in the path of the ray of moonlight streaming into the room through the window—causing Scott to be transfixed by the goddess who happened to be his partner. 

"You-you couldn’t have warned me?" Scott choked out, torn between fleeing and the urge to run towards Tessa, taking her into his arms and making her undoubtably his. 

And for the first time in a long while, Scott Moir was speechless when Tessa shot back nonchalantly, “Nothing you haven’t seen before, Scotty,” before pulling the shirt on over her head and crawling under the covers. 

At her words, images of the nights that he and Tessa agreed never to talk about flashed through his mind; memories that he’d prevented himself from ever thinking about, for if he let himself do so, he would go mad with every touch, every look shared between himself and Tessa. And he couldn’t have that. Not when she was his skating partner; not when their career was still in bloom, medals and titles still to be won—programs and lifts to be conquered. So he had squashed down the images of nights when she was seventeen and he, nineteen; then again during Carmen practices when she was twenty-two and he, twenty-four—but those times he and Tessa justified it to themselves by calling it a necessity. An outlet to the frustration that would inevitably affect their skating, which they absolutely could not have happen.

Getting a grip on himself and making his way to the bed, Scott sat at the edge and gently wiped the make-up off of Tessa’s face—just as he’d seen her do countless times after long days of competition. Placing the cotton ball on the bedside table, he slowly wiped her face with the wet towel… for once letting himself freely marvel at her beauty instead of forcing himself to keep his thoughts otherwise occupied in fear of coming to terms with his complicated, yet ever so simple, feelings regarding his best friend. 

Once he was done, Scott cupped Tessa’s cheek with one hand and planted a kiss at the corner of her lip; taking the time to close his eyes and breathe her in. He marveled to himself at how familiar she was, yet how she was still able to make his heart race as if he were thirteen-years-old and on his first date all over again. 

When he made to leave, Tessa captured his hand in hers, her eyes still closed as she murmured, “Stay.” 

Tessa threaded her fingers through Scott’s, tugging him gently towards her, as if his resolve was not already breaking from her soft, whispered, “stay”. Opening her eyes and turning her gaze onto Scott, it only took the meeting of their eyes for him to drop his coat and shoes onto the floor, climbing into bed next to Tessa. 

The moment that Scott found his way under the sheets, Tessa turned to him and draped his arm around her, using his other arm as a pillow and holding him close to her as she buried her head into his chest. Scott had climbed into bed with all intentions of keeping his distance—yet he could not find it within himself to break away from Tessa. Not when she was there in his arms, her heartbeat and breathing so in sync with his in the silence of the room, as if time was not measured in seconds… but by the beating of their heartbeats. 

Giving in with a sigh, Scott buried his nose into Tessa’s hair, holding her close to him with all of their usual barriers aside, for once. He traced soothing circles on her back and finally allowed himself to freely feel what he felt for Tessa with no excuses or explanations. 

"I love you, Scotty."

Tessa’s voice was muffled and Scott could not tell if she was actually awake or talking in her sleep. Dropping a kiss to the top of her head, he said quietly, “I love you too, Tess.” 

After a beat or two, just when Scott started drifting off to sleep, Tessa mumbled something intelligible—but he was able to make out the word “But" with the names names "Cassandra" and "Jessica"… and promptly felt his heart break at the pain he caused her, and his two ex-girlfriends, for his own, selfish purposes. 

Pulling back slightly so that he could see Tessa, Scott stared down at her until she opened her eyes sleepily to meet his. And right then and there, he wanted to explain how he went from girlfriend to girlfriend because he needed some reason other than their career to keep away from her. Because he needed someone to hold him back from caressing her and loving her just like he did on ice, off-ice; because he needed to touch someone, to kiss someone, to hold someone when he wanted her—Tessa—because he just could not keep away with any reason weaker than compromising his loyalty. 

Not that it ever stopped him from mentally cheating, because his heart was never there. He liked Cassandra and Jessica just as a boyfriend should like a girlfriend—but his feelings for Tessa were on an inexplicable, other level; in a league of their own, incomparable to what he felt for his ex-girlfriends. And how could anyone blame him, when the girl who knew absolutely everything there was to know about him, and more, was just out of reach… dangled in front of him on the ice, giving him the illusion of having her—only to have it all snatched away the moment their skate guards were on their skates. 

"Oh Tess—I wish you didn’t have to be drunk and half asleep to talk to me about this," Scott whispered, his heart aching at the thought of Tessa internalizing her pain and keeping it a secret for him; for his sake. "I’m so sorry, Tessa. I’m so sorry." Wrapping his arms more tightly around her, Scott sighed before making the admission that he was too afraid to before. He owed his best friend at least that much after his own cowardice and selfishness. 

"I love you more than anyone in this universe, Tess. More than you’ll ever know."

Hours, minutes, maybe even seconds—Scott didn’t know—later, Tessa said quietly back, “I know, Scotty. I know,” before sleep engulfed them both.


End file.
